


If being sexy was a crime, you’d be guilty as hell.

by DropsOfAddiction



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Police, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BAMF Stiles, Barebacking, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Derek Hale Can Have Nice Things, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Feels, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Needs a Hug, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Has Issues, Desk Sex, Detective Derek Hale, Detective Stiles Stilinski, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Topping, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Jealous Derek Hale, Jordan Parrish & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, POV Derek Hale, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Pining Derek, Possessive Derek Hale, Protective Derek Hale, Rimming, Scenting, Some Humor, Stiles Stilinski Has a Crush on Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Has an Oral Fixation, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-20 23:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22551127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfAddiction/pseuds/DropsOfAddiction
Summary: Derek tries and fails to shut his gaping mouth as Stiles arrives at his desk, heartbeat rabbiting a little faster than usual.Stiles grabs a file out of his desk, muttering something about forgetting to mail it yesterday and needing to get it down to filing by Monday. Derek’s barely paying attention, unable to concentrate with the scent of him right under his nose.He leans over Derek to grab an empty envelope from their shared stationary tray and Derek knows he’s absolutely fucked when he sees how his trousers are moulded to his perfect ass.“So.... how do I look?” Stiles asks casually as he stands back up, as if his very presence hasn’t just given Derek a very sudden and uncomfortable boner.He looks like he should be on the cover of GQ.What Derek wants to say, what he really means to say, is that he looks fine. Quite nice, even.What comes out of his mouth is so far from that, it’s almost ridiculous.“You can’t go out looking like that!” Derek manages, sounding choked.Stiles pales.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 104
Kudos: 2773





	If being sexy was a crime, you’d be guilty as hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy, this one was just pure indulgence on my part... a what could have been, if you will. 
> 
> Much love!

“Absolutely not. This isn’t happening.” Detective Derek Hale growls at his partner, dark eyebrows raised high on his head. His face is a mixture of disbelief and alarm.

“You don’t really have much of choice, Hale,” Detective Erica Reyes grins manically at him, tone positively gleeful.

Derek’s eyes dart nervously around the bullpen, eyeing their colleagues suspiciously. Nothing seems amiss to him but the 55th Precinct of the NYPD can be a strange place sometimes.

It’s a Monday morning and everyone seems to be going about their morning routines, picking up unfinished work left over from the holiday weekend.

Derek’s waiting for the camera crew to jump out and yell “surprise, gotcha” at Erica’s bombshell. Then they can all have a good laugh and Derek’s nightmare will be over.

“You’ve still got a few months to get used to the idea, don’t worry your pretty little head,” Erica pats him on the shoulder.

She removes her hand with a squeeze when Derek snarls at her.

“Please tell me you’re messing with me?” Derek pleads, but it only makes Erica throw her head back and laugh harder.

“Sorry Der-bear. It’s happening whether you like it or not. You’ll be OK,” She shrugs, flipping her long blond hair over her shoulder and patting her mostly flat stomach.

“You are unbelievably selfish Reyes,” Derek tells her, pointing at her accusingly.

“Well, you can tell that to Boyd tonight at dinner because he’s half to blame. I hope you give him half as much shit as you’re giving me,” Erica winks at him.

Derek sits down at his desk and puts his head in his hands and he groans.

He’d finally made Detective two years ago at the tender age of twenty four and he’s since gone through eleven partners. In fact, before Erica, he’d gone through four partners in just one month; everyone at the precinct knows it was due to his less than sunny disposition.

He’d had trouble connecting with people for as long as he can remember and in his heart he knows it’s because of what happened to his family. 

Knowing ‘why’ you’re fucked up unfortunately doesn’t make it easier to ‘be’ less fucked up, Derek thinks wryly.

Just when their Captain, John Stillinski, had nearly finally given up on him (hell he’d pretty much given up on himself) along came the sassy, brassy and total bad assy Erica Reyes.

John Stillinski had cornered him way back when, just before Erica had transferred in and he’d given him ‘a crisis talk’. 

Derek wouldn’t have respected anyone other than the Captain to sit and listen and he most certainly wouldn’t have even attempted to make it work for anyone less.

——————————

“Morning Captain,” Derek had grumbled, as he’d walked across the open doorway of John Stllinski’s office.

“Morning Derek. Son, can you come in here for a minute please? Shut the door behind you,” The Captain’s voice always soothed him and Derek really has no idea why, but he doesn’t question it.

Most people grate on him so he’ll take it. He did as he was told and he took the seat opposite the Captain.

“Greenberg came in and asked me if he could transfer down to 66th this morning,” Stillinski told him, no emotion showing in his voice.

Derek didn’t know if he was angry at him, but he’d winced all the same.

“I’m sorry?” Derek had offered, not meeting the older mans eyes. 

Derek thinks that’s what he probably wants to hear. It’s how the last three conversations about his partners requesting to be moved have gone.

Derek knows the formula, the script, so he gets ready to go through the motions. I’m sorry. We just didn’t click. I’d rather be on my own.

The Captain never gets mad, he just nods but he keeps assigning him another partner. 

Derek doesn’t get it. He’s better off alone.

“Are you? Sorry?” The Captain had said levelly.

Derek said nothing. He really does like John Stillinski. Derek doesn’t like to lie to him. He didn’t think his answer would win him any brownie points that morning, so he’d kept his mouth shut and head down.

The Captain had sighed and dragged his hands over his chin. He’d finally placed them on the desk.

“Derek, do you know ‘why’ I keep giving you partners?” John had asked him.

“No idea Sir,” Derek replied and he’d meant it.

Derek gets the same level of results, solves the same amount of cases when he’s working independently.

“It’s because I see you Son. I can see how you watch your colleagues going about their day, chatting to each other, making plans. I can see how you watch them, looking in from the outside, like you’re studying a tank of aliens and you’re trying to understand them,” John had said, voice soft.

Derek frowned. He didn’t need this shit, he does a good job, gets results. He’s not here to be psychoanalysed. 

He could go to a shrink if he wanted that. He crossed his arms over his chest, adjusting his shoulder holster and he glared at his Captain.

“With all due respect Sir, how are my social capabilities related to my ability to do my job? I don’t need a partner to get results. I know they all call me Robo-Derek behind my back. I don’t need to have a thousand friends at work to be able to solve cases. A partner just means I’ve got someone else to look out for, someone that’s probably going to get hurt,” Derek bristled.

He didn’t add “because they’re human and humans can break”.

The Captain’s eyes had lit up and Derek knew he was in trouble because Stillinski looked like he’d worked something out. 

Derek wondered, not for the first time, just how much he knows about Derek’s past. 

“You do a fine job Hale, you know you’re one of my best Detectives, with or without a partner. If you really want to fly solo, I’m going to sign off on that today, I should have led with that. You may not need a partner to make you better at your job, but have you ever considered that having a partner might make you feel a little less alone? You don’t need a thousand friends, but why don’t you try starting with one?” The Captain smiled and it wasn’t unkind.

“I. Don’t. Need. a partner.” Derek growled, aware he sounded like a petulant toddler.

“I want you to try one more. For me. Her name is Erica Reyes. She’s a pain in the ass to be honest, she’s been moved from her previous precinct because she punched a guy right in the balls. In the middle of the Precinct canteen,” John had told him.

Derek raised his eyebrows, alarmed, but despite his reservations he’d been a little intrigued.

“Why?” Derek had asked and the Captain smiled grimly.

“Word has it that he didn’t quite get the memo on workplace sexual harassment... he’s quit, but I owe their Captain a favour and everyone’s too afraid to work with her over there,” John shrugged.

Derek huffed. He didn’t want a partner and he really didn’t want a hothead that he’d have to watch out for.

“Look... give it a week... for me? I think you’ll quite like her,” John’s tone had left no room for argument.

“I doubt it very much Sir,” Derek had grumbled, uncrossing his arms.

——————————

Of course, he’d been proven so unbelievably wrong.

The second they get introduced in the Captain’s office, Derek knows his new partner is a Werewolf.

As soon as the Captain leaves them alone, Derek has her by the throat in seconds, pinned against the wall. She flashes beta gold eyes at him and she tilts her head, submitting.

It drags out a pack instinct in him that he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager, since he lived at home back in Beacon Hills surrounded by his family.

He doesn’t want to hurt her. He wants to take care of her.

He lets her go with a flash of red eyes and it’s as simple as that. They’re cool with each other.

He’d moved to New York because there were less Werewolves here than in the suburban areas. His kind usually preferred being near nature, sticking to the shadows.

But Derek just wants to be alone, hence his choice of living in the city. He never wants to be part of a pack again, it’s just too big a risk, too much to lose. 

He’d never wanted to be an Alpha either but as the light had gone out of his Mother’s eyes that night, as he’d cradled her charred body on the lawn in front of their house, he’d felt the power transfer to him as he’d howled. 

He’d looked over at his little sister Cora, clutching at their Father’s lifeless form, wailing as Laura dragged her to her chest and a part of him had died inside.

He’d laid down until he was curled up tightly into a ball on the ground, trying to shield himself from the weight of what he’d done.

He’d literally given their murderer a key to their home. He was lucky he’d come home just in time to get his sisters out.

With a final howl he’d dragged himself to his knees and then he’d stood up. He’d ran.

He’d found Kate about three miles away in a bar, laughing with two men. They were hunters and Kate was flirting and drinking.

Derek vomited repeatedly in the alley as he waited until she left for the night. Then somehow, he’d summoned the strength to rip her throat out, right there on the sidewalk.

He never would have thought he’d be capable of such anger, such violence and to this day he still has nightmares about it.

He’d been barely sixteen and although it hadn’t brought him peace to kill her, what it had done was give him the closure that she wouldn’t come for his sisters. It had been necessary.

That had been over nine long years ago and although the pain is still there, it’s dulls with every year that passes.

Laura and Cora still live in Beacon Hills, along with Laura’s husband, Ron and their kids. Ron’s human, the kids, most decidedly, are not.

Derek visits for Christmas, sometimes birthdays but he never wanted to be their Alpha. Not with his Mother’s power.

He will always have a hole inside him that his parents should be filling up.

So, he was a lone Werewolf in New York and it worked perfectly for him. Up until the second he met Erica, he’d naively thought he’d been the only Werewolf on the police force. Well at least in this district anyway.

Erica didn’t have a pack either. Apparently, she’d been bitten by a rogue Alpha a few years back and now she and her boyfriend Boyd live in an apartment, not far from Derek’s loft. 

Boyd’s a werewolf too. The way Erica tells it, they saw each other across the bar at a singles night and there was eye flashing galore and they didn’t get out of bed for a month. It’s all very romantic and a story Derek never wants to hear again.

So despite all Derek’s reservations about having a pack, it’s suddenly him and Erica. And Boyd.

Derek kind of likes it, despite himself. It works. 

He’s an Alpha but he’s very much not in charge of Erica.

She’s ridiculously bossy and suddenly Derek finds himself being invited to dinner, spending his weekends watching the Super Bowl with Boyd, even going out to the odd bar with them both on occasion after work.

Every Friday night is Mexican night, where Boyd cooks and Derek doesn’t even get invited anymore, he’s just expected to show up. The first week Erica didn’t ask him, he’d gone straight home and started warming up a couple of pop tarts when she’d called him to see where the hell he was. She’d chewed him out for an hour over that one, all about how he’s not a guest and if he ever misses Mexican night again she’ll smack him right in the face with a taco.

He also doesn’t miss the pleased grins that Captain Stillinski gives him in work either. Derek even finds it in himself to flash him a returning smile every now and again. 

He would even dare to say, sometimes, he’s actually happy.

It’s almost perfect. 

That is until Erica announces that she’s pregnant.

———————— 

Derek tries to ignore ‘the situation’ right up until Erica’s working her last shift before starting her maternity leave. She’s long been on desk duty up until this point, belly poking out as she manoeuvres her way to Derek’s desk.

Her belly reaches him before she does and it pokes him in the shoulder.

He turns around and despite himself, he lays a hand on her tummy.

“Hey Pup. Still can’t believe your Mom is abandoning me,” He talks to her stomach in a quiet voice, so no one overhears. 

He’d started calling the bump ‘Pup’ as soon as she’d told him she was pregnant and now all three of them use the term frequently.

Erica slaps his hand and the baby kicks him hard at the same time. He’s getting it from all angles.

“I’m not abandoning you! Don’t make me feel anymore guilty than I already do. I’ll be back before you know it. Boyd said that his boss at the restaurant finally signed off on him splitting his Paternity with my Maternity, so we can divide up our leave when the baby is born. Gives him a chance to bond with the Pup and it will mean I don’t have to leave you for so long!” Erica tells him, rubbing her bump soothingly.

Derek just glares at her but she’s immune to him by this point.

She waddles off toward the juice machine.

“The Captain says he wants to see you in his office by the way,” She calls over her shoulder, knocking a pen pot off Daehlers perfectly organised desk as she goes.

Derek smiles, suddenly cheered up. He hates Daehler.

“Hale. Can you come in here a minute?” the Captain calls, Derek’s face returning to a frown.

Derek walks into the office and doesn’t shut the door but he does sit down. He’s driving Erica mad lately but there’s a protective instinct triggered in him where he can’t let her out of his sight.

Luckily Boyd is very chilled, because the fact that Derek keeps showing up every single night at their apartment, just so he can sit next to her on the sofa, might be weird otherwise.

The fact that he brings an endless stream of groceries and cooks them dinner most nights probably helps smooth the situation over. 

Boyd does draw the line the one morning he’d found Derek asleep, propped up against their bedroom door though. 

He’d banished him to the couch from then on.

“Erica finishes work today,” The Captain says casually.

“Yep,” Derek nods.

“You need a new partner,” John offers, getting straight to it. 

Derek’s surprised the conversation hasn’t happened sooner but Derek knows the Captain’s been a little busy at home lately.

Erica had mentioned something about his kid moving to New York or something. The Captain was back today after two weeks vacation time.

“Sir, can’t I just work on my own, it’s only six months or so?” Derek says.

“We’ve been over this and look how much happier you are since Erica came along. You made one real friend at work! I’m proud of you. Why don’t you try for two?” The Captain says cheerfully.

Derek isn’t able to tell him that Erica was a one off, a magical coincidence and unless he’s going to find him another beta wolf with a heart of gold and a mouth full of attitude, he’s probably not going to like his new partner.

Derek knows he’s not going to win this argument because the Captain had proved himself right last time. 

“Sir. Whatever you think is best,” Derek just says, tone clipped but accepting and it’s a testament to how much he’s mellowed since Erica has been in his life.

The Captain looks surprised that he gives in so fast but he but covers it quickly.

“Atta boy. Well he’s going to be coming in today to meet you. He’s actually been working as an analyst for the Bureau up in Washington for the past year but he’s recently moved back to the City. He’s not got as much field experience as you but I’ve seen his academy scores from back in the day and they were damn near perfect. He aced the Detective exam and the physical too, so I’m sure...” The Captain is cut off by Derek snarling and jumping to his feet.

He can hear Erica groaning and whimpering.

He’s out of the Captain’s office and across the bullpen in a flash, fighting hard not to wolf out in the packed precinct.

He scents and tracks her to the break room and he almost rips the door off its hinges when he hears her whine pitifully.

The sight he’s met with renders him stunned and confused.

He cocks his head scenting the air wildly and tries to process the scene before him.

Erica’s sitting in a chair, feet propped in a strangers lap and the guy’s hands are moving on her swollen calves.

The guy is staring at Derek, honey brown eyes wide and curious. He cocks his head at Derek, waiting for him to say something and the guy runs a hand through his short brown hair nervously.

Derek drags his eyes over him involuntarily.

The mans young face would suggest he’s anywhere between twenty to twenty four, smooth pale skin and a little button nose making him look younger than Derek thinks he actually is. He’s wearing tight blue jeans with sneakers and a black t-shirt that is stretched tight over his arms and chest. 

He’s not hugely built, but Derek can see from where his legs are stretched out that’s he’s quite tall and he’s deceptively toned. 

He looks like he’s in good shape, really good shape and Derek can’t drag his eyes away from his hands.

His long, strong fingers are pressing into the muscles of Erica’s legs and when the guy runs them over her swollen ankles, massaging gently, she gives out a long drawn out moan. 

Derek answers with a snarl and the guy, still looking at him, takes his hands off her and holds them up as if in surrender.

Derek’s not entirely sure if he’s snarling because the guy’s touching Erica and he needs to protect her, or if he’s snarling because he’s jealous that the guy’s not touching Derek instead. 

It’s about 50/50.

“Sorry dude,” The guy says solemnly to Derek and he looks apologetically at Erica, “I didn’t realise your baby Daddy was in the vicinity, you little minx. Neither of you have anything to worry about though, as I told the ethereal Erica here, I’m definitely not into heavily preggers chicks.”

Erica positively cackles at him, scent happy and contented. Derek knows they’re both in big trouble. 

Erica hates almost everyone on sight, so the fact she’s letting this guy touch her, especially this heavily pregnant, means her wolf accepted him before her human side even did.

Derek’s too stunned to speak. 

The guy’s mouth is moving a mile a minute and Derek’s instincts are going haywire between wanting to protect Erica, wanting to defend the Pup but also creeping in is a very foreign need to rub himself all over the stranger, to see if he smells as good as he looks.

The guy pats Erica’s legs and puts her feet back on the floor gently and she growls at Derek, sticking her tongue out at him.

“Gross, Derek’s not my baby Daddy, I have some taste you know. Why are you stopping? You have amazing hands,” Erica whines.

Derek stares as the man wiggles his fingers theatrically and he’s inclined to agree with her.

“No shit,” the guy stands up and Derek was right, he’s nearly the same height as him, “You’re Derek? Derek Hale?”

Derek feels a sense of dread coming over him. He nods, mouth falling open as the guy approaches him, wiping his hands on his jeans. 

Derek’s eyes catch on his badge which is clipped to his hip.

Derek takes a deep breath and he gets a lung full of the most incredible smell from the stranger. 

He smells like honey, gunpowder and a little hint of coffee. 

He’s most definitely human but not like any human Derek’s ever smelled.

Derek can’t describe it but he smells like safety. Like comfort. And a little bit like sex.

He has to fight the urge to bury his face in the guy’s neck and take deep dragging breaths. Derek wants him.

Derek notices a few little laugh lines around his eyes and his first estimation of his age might have be a little off, Derek thinks he might be closer to his own age.

Derek digs his hands into his palms, pinpricks of claws digging in deeply to ground him.

One glance at Erica confirms she knows exactly how this guy is affecting him because she starts to laugh and claps her hands together, like someone’s just given her the best present ever.

“Oh this is too much,” She grins, looking back and forth between them.

The guy reaches Derek and he holds his hand outstretched to him in greeting. His smile is distracting and Derek stares blatantly at his mouth, wondering what the fuck is happening right now.

“Well howdy partner! I’m going to be covering for Erica. I’m Stiles. Stiles Stillinski!” Stiles says with a ridiculous and tragic imitation of a southern accent.

Derek makes a noise in his throat that Erica will later inform him reminded her of a turkey’s gobble.

Derek turns around, walks out and slams the door, without saying so much as a word.

“Wow. Rude much...” He hears Stiles says to Erica, as he makes his way to the Precinct garages. 

He has to sit in his Camaro for two entire hours before he’s calm enough to re-enter the building.

The scent of Stiles doesn’t fully fade from his nose.

———————————

When Derek strides purposefully back toward the Captain’s office, he finds Stiles already in there.

He stops just outside and cocks his head, listening.

“Just give him a chance Stiles,” The Captain says.

“You didn’t see him Dad, he was furious. He looked like he was going to rip my head off,” Stiles says indignantly.

That confirms to Derek what he’d suspected when Stiles introduced himself. The guy is the Captain’s son. 

“He’ll take a bit of time to come around Stiles, he’s a good cop,” Derek feels a foreign ache in his stomach at the sound of the Captain defending him.

“But can’t I partner up with someone who doesn’t hate my guts on sight?” Stiles groans.

Derek cringes. 

If only Stiles knew, it was quite the opposite. But if that’s what Stiles thinks, Derek’s not going to correct him.

The more he thinks Derek doesn’t want to be around him the quicker he’ll want a new partner and the safer he’ll be.

“No. Look Stiles, I promised you I wouldn’t treat you any differently to anyone else. You’re new in, Derek doesn’t have a partner. I’m not moving anyone else,” The Captain huffs.

Derek knows that tone of voice and he also knows that Stiles has lost the argument.

Stiles also seems to also be aware of it.

“Fine. But if he rips my throat out with his teeth, it’s on you. I want you to play ‘Waterfalls’ at my funeral. Make it beautiful,” Stiles sighs dramatically.

Derek knocks on the doorframe gently and clears his throat.

“Sir,” he acknowledges the Captain first.

“Ah Derek. Good. Stiles said you saw him and ran away. It’s not an unusual reaction to him if I’m honest so don’t worry, you won’t have hurt his feelings too much. Derek this is my son Stiles. Stiles, this is Derek, my best detective,” John gestures between them both.

Stiles stands up and crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits, defensive. Derek tries not to notice how the action stretches his t-shirt tight across his chest.

Derek summons his best glare and frowns at him.

“Let’s go,” Derek says to him.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Stiles says, eyebrows raised incredulously.

“Fine. Stay here then.” And Derek leaves the room.

“Make it work Stiles,” he hears the Captain say.

Despite himself, he allows himself a tiny smile when he hears Stiles’ footsteps following him into the bullpen.

—————————

What follows is the most awkward week of Derek’s life. Stiles spends the whole of their first day listening to Erica’s tales about Derek on the job.

Derek does his paperwork having to relive horrendous stories, like when he fell into an industrial tub of guacamole while on a case.

Stiles chuckles the whole time and by the time the end of the day comes around, Derek’s sure he’s going to be hearing his laugh as he dreams.

The rest of the week doesn’t get any better really. Without Erica as a buffer, Stiles decides that he’s not going to be discouraged by Derek’s outright silences and he talks Derek’s ear off.

By the time the next Friday rolls around and they’re packing up for the weekend, he feels like he knows literally every detail of Stiles’ life.

Derek’s progressed to grunting at Stiles’ ramblings, because he’s actually found he quite likes it when Stiles talks. 

He’s subtly encouraging him, despite his reservations. Not too obviously though.

Stiles yawns loudly leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. He’s sitting at the other side of Derek’s desk and it gives Derek an eyeful of a toned stomach and a dark trail of hair leading from his naval down into his jeans.

Derek averts his eyes before he gets caught staring. It’s getting harder and harder to keep Stiles at arms length.

They’re currently sharing a desk because Erica got defensive when Stiles tried to use one of her drawers on his first day.

She’d burst into hormone fuelled tears and Stiles had solemnly swore to her that even when she was gone, he wouldn’t use her desk and he’d protect it from all other infiltrators.

He’d actually saran wrapped it and put a picture of Erica on top. Stiles takes a picture of the unsullied desk and sends it to her every single morning.

Derek may or may not think it’s actually really sweet; the fact that it means they have to share Derek’s workspace, knees knocking together, Stiles shoving him with his foot and getting his scent all over Derek, well that’s just an unfortunate consequence. Or so Derek tells himself.

“You ready to bounce?” Stiles asks him, standing up and throwing his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“Mmm,” Derek grunts.

They walk down to the parking garage in silence and Derek’s confusion mounts as Stiles follows him to his car.

“Cool car man, I love a Camaro. It’s no CJ5 jeep but she’s a beauty,” Stiles reaches out a hand to pat the hood.

Derek blocks him with his body, except it puts Stiles a little too close to him.

“Goodnight.” Derek says pointedly at him.

“Erm... ok... bit weird... but goodnight to you too? Now open the car dude, I’m freezing my ass off,” Stiles ducks under his arm before Derek really knows what’s happened.

Derek was possibly a little distracted staring at his mouth again.

Derek turns, but this puts Stiles between him and the car this time. It’s not better. 

Stiles smells incredible.

“No. Goodnight. Goodbye.” Derek says pointedly.

Confusion crosses Stiles’ brow and then his face relaxes into a smirk.

“Little minx. She didn’t tell you,” Stiles says.

“Tell me what?” Derek says and fuck a duck, he’s officially broken his grunting and single words only vow.

“It speaks!” Stiles exclaims.

“Tell. Me. What?” Derek growls, stepping even closer to Stiles. There wasn’t much room to begin with and Stiles meeps a little when his butt hits the door of the car.

“Well Erica invited me over. So... I’m coming to dinner, I guess?” Stiles says and it’s very much a question.

Derek inhales and he has to close his eyes because he’s afraid they might be red.

He takes a second and when he opens them again, Stiles looks a little sad, like he knows Derek’s about to put the kibosh on dinner.

“She knows I don’t really know anyone here dude... and my alternative is cruising e harmony, home, all alone. By myself Derek. Quite frankly knowing my romantic history, I’ll probably end up dead in a ditch... and that will be on you... so...” Stiles tells him and punctuates his point with a poke to Derek’s chest.

Derek just stares down at his finger, eyebrow cocked. Stiles removes his hand.

For some reason the thought of Stiles staying in and joining dating websites fills him with dread.

He lifts the car key until it’s eye-level with Stiles’ face and he deliberately clicks the unlock button.

Stiles’ mega watt grin is worth it.

“Awesome,” he says, getting into the passenger seat, “I didn’t finish telling you about the time my best friend from back home, Scott, got caught in his girlfriends bedroom by her Dad!” 

And just like that, Stiles resumes his easy monologue and talks all the way to Erica and Boyd’s apartment.

The doorman recognises Derek immediately and lets them into the foyer.

“Hi Mr. Hale. Ms. Reyes said you’d be coming over with your friend for dinner. How was your week?” The doorman walks them to the lift, shaking Stiles’ hand as he goes.

“It was all good Fred. And you know you’re supposed to call me Derek. How’s Molly and the kids?” Derek asks him politely, voice soft.

“She’s fine and they’re running rings around us. Remind me why I wanted two? Bedtime routine has settled down a bit now though, thanks for your advice,” Fred says, pushing the elevator button for them even though Derek reaches for it.

“Did you try the game? I told you, always worked with Cora. She’d get fed up trying to count bedbugs and getting her to pretend to put them in a jar worked so fast, it was like magic,” Derek smiles.

The elevator arrives and Fred ushers Derek and Stiles in. Fred bids them good evening with a little nod and a wave.

When the elevator starts moving, Derek feels Stiles’ eyes on him. He keeps his eyes front and centre.

“What?” Derek grunts.

“Erm, what the hell was that and who the hell are you?” Stiles accuses.

Derek shrugs. 

“I like Fred. He’s a good man,” Derek offers.

“Oh.” Stiles says and Derek smells a wave of disappointment coming off him.

He realises how it sounded and how it might look that he’d been so rude and monosyllabic to Stiles all week. It’s not like he can tell him he’s trying to keep him away for his own good.

“I didn’t mean... what I meant was...” Derek tries, facing him. 

The elevator pings on the floor they need and Stiles gets out.

“No, it’s fine man. Forget it,” he says but he won’t look at Derek.

Derek doesn’t like it and he doesn’t like the way Stiles’ scent has soured, unhappy.

Derek leads them to the correct apartment door and before Stiles goes to knock, Derek makes a decision and grabs his hand.

Stiles looks at him quizzically, heartbeat pounding in his chest.

“I... I didn’t mean I didn’t like you. That’s... that’s what I should have said,” Derek says frowning.

“Oh,” Stiles says again and there’s that grin.

Derek hasn’t let his hand go and when Stiles licks his lips nervously, Derek’s eyes track the movement.

He spares a moment to wonder what exactly it is about Stiles that he seems to be unable to resist, when the door is yanked open violently from the inside.

He jumps away from Stiles like he’s been electrocuted and the grin that Erica gives can only be described as wolffish.

“Hey boys, thought I heard you fooling around out here,” Erica drawls.

Derek notices Stiles blush and it creeps down his neck. Derek wants to yank the collar of his shirt to the side to see how far down it tracks.

Erica sniffs the air staring blatantly at Derek and she grins even more manically.

“Oh my. Well you’d better come in Der-bear. Thanks for coming Stiles,” she steps back from the door and allows Stiles to step into her apartment.

“Oh wow, it smells amazing in here,” Stiles tells her.

“Boyd’s making fajitas. Lots of spice. We’re trying to get the Pup to make an appearance,” she tells them, rubbing her belly.

Derek looks at her, horrified. He’s excited about the baby but he’s not really thought about what that means when the Pup is actually here.

Dinner ends up being a very loud affair.

There’s lots of beer for Stiles; Derek and Boyd indulge, despite not being able to get drunk, but Stiles doesn’t know that.

Stiles eats seven fajitas and that’s only one less than Derek manages. The conversation comes easily and Boyd and Stiles have a love of gaming to bond over, losing Derek for a while.

Derek zones out more than once and just stares at Stiles talking animatedly, watches how he has a conversation with his whole body. Derek finds himself wondering what he’d look like spread out in his bed, if he would be so energetic, if he’d use his hands so much...

“Kids got an appetite like a wolf eh Derek,” Boyd winks at Derek as Stiles shoves the last nacho in his mouth.

Stiles moans and pats his stomach.

Derek startles when Erica boots his leg under the table, because he’s been caught staring. Stiles blushes and Derek feels an inexplicable urge to defend him, even though Boyd means no harm.

“Well if he can eat like that and still look the way he does, he can go for it. It’s obviously working for him,” Derek grunts, tilting his head back and dragging the last of his beer.

He meets Stiles’ eyes and almost wishes he hadn’t. The look he’s giving him is burning, peering at him through narrowed eyes and dark lashes. Stiles licks his lips and Derek, once again, is drawn to his mouth.

Erica uncharacteristically takes pity on them and breaks the silence.

“Well boys, shall we call it a night? Boyd’s got work at 6am tomorrow and Pups going to keep me up all night kicking my insides so...” Erica tells them.

Derek stands up and helps take the plates into their kitchenette before heading to grab his jacket.

Stiles follows him to the door and Erica hugs them both goodbye.

Derek tries not to let it affect him when Stiles pats her bump and says “See you soon Pup,” but he feels a weird pang in his chest. 

He’s going to blame it on the spice in the fajitas.

They say goodbye to Fred and walk out onto the chilly street. Stiles shivers, despite his coat and Derek muses that he’s probably not quite used to New York weather quite yet.

Derek doesn’t really think before he takes his scarf off and wraps it around Stiles’ neck. He only wears it to keep up the pretence that he’s wrapping up warm, his natural heat means he doesn’t really need it himself.

Or that’s what he tells himself when he winds it around Stiles’ neck anyway.

The small pleased smile that Stiles gives him brings out a deep longing in him. His cheeks are pink and flushed with the beer and the cold and Derek wants to ‘be’ the scarf.

They stroll a few blocks in companionable silence and Derek doesn’t realise that Stiles is leading him to where he lives until he stops outside a strange building. Another thing for Derek to worry about then, how he follows him without thinking.

“So, this is me,” Stiles gestures toward a brownstone with steep steps.

“Nice,” Derek comments.

“Sure. It would be if Dad didn’t live downstairs. Makes getting laid a total bitch...” Stiles trails off at the look on Derek’s face.

“Anyway. I should get going. Thanks for letting me come tonight. Erica’s a scream and I had a really nice time,” Stiles continues as he unwraps Derek’s scarf.

“No, keep it,” Derek goes to stop him, resting a hand on Stiles’ where it’s holding the scarf against his neck.

Stiles’ breath hitches and his scent turns to something that Derek’s finding hard to resist.

Derek closes his eyes and tries to take shallow breaths and prays to any deity that will listen to give him the strength to walk away, for Stiles’ sake.

“Oh fuck it,” he hears Stiles say and that’s the only warning he gets before he feels Stiles’ chilly hands cup his face and press his lips gently to his.

Derek grunts in surprise and Stiles pulls back but doesn’t let go of him.

“So... that happened. Tell me I’m reading this wrong but...” and Derek cuts Stiles off with a kiss of his own.

As their lips meet, Derek moans softly and he gets a hand in Stiles’ hair, yanking his body into his.

Derek licks into his mouth and he proceeds to nip and lick his way down Stiles’ neck, nosing the scarf where their scents are mixed and it’s only Stiles letting out a needy whine that brings him back to his senses.

Derek steps back, putting space between them, panting hard.

Stiles looks like he’s been dragged through a hedge, hair sticking up everywhere, scarf dangling off one shoulder and his lips are red and wet where Derek’s kissed him.

“Oh my god,” Stiles says.

“Stiles,” Derek pleads as Stiles advances.

Derek puts a hand out to stop him and Stiles cocks his head in confusion.

Derek’s so disappointed in himself because he knows for a fact it will end in Stiles getting hurt. Just by association. 

Derek doesn’t get to have good things like Stiles. Not to keep.

“Just...” Derek tries to collect himself, “just don’t. Please.”

“Oh.” Stiles says looking crushed.

“You don’t understand. I just. I can’t Stiles,” His own voice sounds strangely hollow to him.

“You can’t, or you don’t want to?” Stiles asks.

Clever boy, Derek thinks.

“It’s the same thing.” Derek tells him, pained.

“It’s really not,” Stiles says and he sounds annoyed.

Derek knows what he has to do.

“It’s never going to happen. Don’t make this weird,” Derek puts on his best glare and aims it at Stiles.

Stiles narrows his eyes at him and Derek has a terrifying moment where he thinks Stiles is just going to jump him, stubborn little shit that he is and Derek knows he won’t be able to walk away a second time.

Derek growls at the image his traitorous brain is supplying and he can feel his teeth, too long to be human, biting into his lip.

Stiles cocks his head again and his face goes slack as if he’s figuring something out. His mouth drops a little in shock but he catches it so fast, Derek isn’t sure that’s what he saw.

“Ok then.” Stiles says slowly, face going carefully blank.

“Ok?” Derek says, not believing it could be that easy.

“Yep. Ok. My bad. Let’s just forget about it. Night Derek,” Stiles pats him on the shoulder and walks up to his front door, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

Despite Derek glaring into the back of his head the entire time, Stiles doesn’t turn around once.

———————

The next week in work is so busy, Derek barely has time to mope. He gets a good few hours in on the Monday evening though, human burrito-ing in bed, until Erica calls him and tells him she can hear him pining from three blocks away.

The baby still hasn’t made an appearance and combined with Stiles’ unrelenting cheeriness in work, Derek’s about to rip someone’s head off by the Friday afternoon.

Detective Matt Daehler approaches Derek when he’s getting a coffee at the communal pot.

“Hey Derek. How goes?” Matt says.

Derek’s instantly alert. He’s never liked the guy. His gut twinges as Matt leans in closer.

“Listen Derek, are you tapping that?” Matt whispers conspiratorially.

Derek blames his tired state as to why he doesn’t catch onto Matt’s meaning straight away.

“What?” Derek says.

“That... you know... The Stillinski kid. Are you tapping that? I’m sort of between relationships at the minute and looking for a hookup. The guy looks like he’d be fiery in the sack. He’s got quite an attitude. So if you’re not, you know, boning, I might give it a go?” Matt laughs and the sound makes Derek want to puke.

Derek wants to say ‘over his dead body’ but Stiles has looked up from his desk and is watching them curiously. He’s just out of earshot though.

“No. I’m not with Stiles. He’s the Captain’s kid, you sure you want to go there?” Derek tries to give Matt an out.

“Yeah I know, even more exciting. He looks like he’d put up a bit of a fight. Might see if he’ll blow me in the training centre,” Matt winks at Derek.

Derek’s body goes tense and he fights the urge to pummel Matt’s face into the countertop.

When Stiles’ hand comes down on his shoulder, Derek relaxes minutely. He hadn’t heard him approach, he has to give it to him, Stiles is stealthy when he wants to be.

“What are you guys talking about?” Stiles says loudly, chipper.

Matt still has his sleazy grin on his face, although his eyes are on Stiles’ hand which is still firmly attached to Derek.

“Nothing,” Derek growls, wanting to spare him the dooshbaggery that is Matt.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Stiles shrugs and Derek can hear a hint of danger lacing his tone, at war with his apparent casual stance.

“Well, robo-Derek here was just saying you might be interested in getting a drink with me later?” And it seems Matt’s creepy confidence knows no bounds.

“I definitely didn’t fucking say that,” Derek snarls, stepping toward Matt.

Stiles stiffens but instead of moving away, he presses in closer to Derek’s side, putting himself a foot in front of Derek, between him and Matt.

Stiles’ smile is wicked when he leans in toward Matt. Derek has to grip the counter to stop himself from yanking Stiles behind his body. 

Stiles is not his. He repeats that like a mantra.

“Hey Matty. No offence. Well actually, you might take offence. But if you were the last fucking dude in New York I wouldn’t get a beer with you. In fact, I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” Stiles grins, but his voice is low and lethal.

Derek barks out an involuntary laugh and he’s not sure if the sudden noise is why Matt takes a step back or if it’s the positively maniacal look on Stiles’ face.

Matt just scowls, face flaming and retreats to his desk glaring.

“Fucking assholes, like they’re not screwing,” he hears Matt mutter.

Derek is suddenly feeling like the day has brightened up. Stiles is still in his space and he spins so he’s still facing him, one hand still on Derek’s shoulder.

“You ok dude?” Stiles’ smiles softens into something gentle and amused.

“You’re amazing,” Derek says before he can stop himself and he cringes.

So much for hiding his feelings for the sake of the greater good and all that.

Stiles beams.

“I’m glad you think so. Right, gotta go, Pops wants to see me before I hit the gym,” Stiles tells him and Derek tries not to mourn the loss when he finally stops touching him.

———————

When Derek goes home that night, he calls Erica to check in. Still no baby, although she says she can feel a few twinges. Derek won’t hang up until she agrees to group skype Laura with him. Laura has two kids of her own, twin girls and Derek knows she’ll have good advice.

When the phone connects he can hear the twins laughing in the background. They’re four this year and Laura’s house sounds like absolute chaos.

“Hey Der-bear! Erica, you look beautiful,” Laura grins at them.

“I feel like a tranquillised triceratops,” Erica moans, standing up and doing a slow waddle for Laura’s benefit.

“Girl, you have a backside that Nikki Minaj would be jealous of, I bet Boyd can’t keep his hands off you,” Laura laughs.

Derek watches his sister, her easy demeanour and he vows to visit more this year. He really misses her and Cora.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Cora’s face pops into the screen, chin hooked over Laura’s shoulder.

“Is that a nose ring Cora?” Derek growls.

“Yes. Hey big bro. You don’t get to boss me around when you only see me twice a year,” Her teasing is delivered bone dry, but Derek can tell she’s joking. 

“Der, seriously, can you come for a week in the summer, this lot are driving me wild,” Laura huffs and grabs Cora around the neck giving her a noogie.

She lets go when one of the twins crawls her way onto her lap and stares into the camera, smiling, all gap toothed. 

Derek flashes red eyes at her, grinning widely and she squeals with glee as her eyes flash gold in return.

“Hey Ally,” Derek tells her.

“Unca Der Der!” Allison claps gleefully. She’s all wild dark hair like her mother and her personality is sweet and soft, just like Derek’s Mom’s. She was secretly a badass though and he knows Ally’s going to be exactly the same.

“Me too, lift me up please Auntie Cora,” Derek hears offscreen as Cora lifts trouble number two into view and tucks her on her hip.

“Hello Uncle Derek,” says his other niece as she pushes her glasses further up her nose, pronunciation perfect on every word. 

The twin girls are polar opposites and if they hadn’t come out of his sister on the same night, Derek would be seriously questioning their parentage.

“Hello my little Lydia,” Derek greets her.

She rolls her eyes at him dramatically and Derek laughs because if that isn’t a Hale family trait he doesn’t know what is.

“I’m not little,” Lydia says in her sing song voice and she wiggles until Cora puts her down.

“Bye Unca Der Der, love you lots, I gotta go cos my friend Isaac from school is coming over. Mom said I can’t tell him I’m a werewolf, but if he finds out all by hisself then it’s on accident right?” Allison kisses Laura’s laptop, leaving a wet smear that blurs Laura’s eye.

He can hear Laura giving strict instructions to Ron for when Isaac’s Mom drops him off, to make sure Allison behaves herself. 

“They’re getting so big,” Derek tells Laura when they’re back to just the three of them, him, Laura and Erica.

“So what’s up Der, you never call me on Fridays, isn’t that when Boyd cooks Mexican?” Laura says.

“We’re not having dinner tonight. I’m having pains,” Erica gets right into it.

Derek zones out for a few minutes after they’ve established it’s probably Braxton hicks contractions and he’s brought back to the conversation with abrupt horror when he hears Stiles’ name.

Cora and Laura are both in frame listening avidly to Erica, Derek realises in terror.

“...and then Derek walked him home and he kissed him, or at least that’s what Stiles told me, I think Derek’s repressed it. He’s on this “I shall not date anyone for the sake of all humankind” kick again,” Erica rambles on.

“Erica!” He exclaims.

“What? You know you like him. I’ve never seen anyone react like that to someone, human or not. You nearly jumped him the day you met him at the precinct,” Erica points out.

“I can’t do this,” Derek groans putting his head in his hands.

“Derek Hale, you listen to me,” Laura’s voice is commanding. She should have been the alpha, Derek thinks.

“Laura, don’t. Please. I just don’t want him to get hurt and I can’t hide this huge part of me from him,” Derek says sadly.

“Then don’t. Tell him,” Laura shrugs.

“What?” Derek didn’t even know his voice could go that high.

“Derek, you’re usually a good judge of character, listen to your gut. If you think you can trust him, tell him. Maybe go on a few dates first, but don’t let it stop you being happy,” Laura makes it sound so easy.

“How can you say that? How can you even think I’m a good judge of character after... after...” Derek breaks off, voice cracking.

It’s Cora who loses her shit with him, of course.

“For fucks sake Derek. You said yourself, you knew it was wrong with her. You said your wolf hated being near her. Get over it. Everyone else has, you deserve to be happy,” Cora’s words are like a slap and he hears Laura sending her away with hushed tones.

“She’s not wrong Der. Just... if you think for a second he could make you happy, if the wolf likes him, maybe just give it a chance?” Laura says, tone soft.

Erica’s quiet for once in her life.

Derek feels the fight go out of him when he thinks about Stiles’ easy demeanour, his laugh, his scent.

He thinks about how he always has Derek’s back when they’re out in the field and how he can more than handle himself.

“He already does. Make me happy,” Derek says quietly, resigned.

Erica squeals with glee.

Derek hears Laura’s doorbell go and he knows it must be the twins play date.

“Right. On that note. Call me to let me know how it goes Der bear. Love you. You too Erica. Give my love to Boyd,” Laura says.

Erica blows a kiss to the screen and Derek hangs up.

He gets into bed but he can’t rest. He realises for the first time in years he’s feeling excited. He promises himself he’s going to talk to Stiles first thing on Monday and maybe ask him out on a date. 

He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s never had more than a few quick hook ups since Kate. 

He just prays he hasn’t put Stiles off and maybe he can explain a little bit about his trust issues without looking like a total lunatic.

He wraps a hand around his dick, giving in to an urge he hasn’t felt in a really long time and when he comes, he’s imagining Stiles’ soft mouth and warm brown eyes.

As fate would have it, Derek doesn’t make it to Monday without seeing Stiles.

——————————

Late the next day, Saturday evening, Captain Stillinski calls him and asks if Derek could do some overtime. He needed to cover the night shift as Matt had called in sick. Asshole.

Derek half expected Stiles to have been called in too but sadly he finds himself working alone until around 8pm, with no sign of him.

Derek’s sitting doing his paperwork quietly, when Stiles inadvertently implodes his entire evening.

Derek looks up automatically when he hears the ping of the elevator and Stiles steps out into the bullpen looking... well for lack of a better term, Derek’s brain supplies that he looks edible.

Stiles is wearing tight black trousers, smart ones at that and they hug his long legs in a way that Derek’s finding a little bit devastating.

Stiles also has on a deep burgundy shirt that he’s tucked into his pants and Derek is ashamed to associate the colour with the one that Stiles’ skin flushes, when someone pays him a compliment or embarrasses him.

Why does he even know that?

Derek kind of wants to see if he can get Stiles’ chest to match the colour of his shirt, by rubbing his stubble all over him.

Stiles has completed the look with smart black shoes and a black skinny tie. Derek’s eyes are drawn to the shoes as he approaches; they’re super shiny.

He didn’t even think Stiles would know what shoe polish was.

Stiles has styled his hair in a floppy sort of way, which should ruin how smart he looks, but it really doesn’t; it somehow adds to the allure that he might have a bit of a wilder side than the crisp pants and shiny shoes suggest.

Derek tries and fails to shut his gaping mouth as Stiles arrives at his desk, heartbeat rabbiting a little faster than usual.

Stiles grabs a file out of his desk, muttering something about forgetting to mail it yesterday and needing to get it down to filing by Monday. Derek’s barely paying attention, unable to concentrate with the scent of him right under his nose.

He leans over Derek to grab an empty envelope from their shared stationary tray and Derek knows he’s absolutely fucked when he sees how his trousers are moulded to his perfect ass.

“So.... how do I look?” Stiles asks casually as he stands back up, as if his very presence hasn’t just given Derek a very sudden and uncomfortable boner.

He looks like he should be on the cover of GQ.

What Derek wants to say, what he really means to say, is that he looks fine. Quite nice, even.

What comes out of his mouth is so far from that, it’s almost ridiculous.

“You can’t go out looking like that!” Derek manages, sounding choked.

Stiles pales.

“What? Oh my god, I told Erica that it was too much when she sent them to me. I only told her I was going for some drinks and next thing, there’s a package at my door and she’s blaming the Pup for it. She said and I quote “You can’t go out on the town in a Batman T shirt and board shorts or else you’ll never...” Stiles is cut off by Derek’s growl.

Fucking Erica. Traitor.

“Are you going on a date?” Derek bites out, aiming for casual and missing by a country mile.

“Erm... well no... I don’t think so, it’s just drinks. I didn’t think you would even... I mean... moving on from awkward unrequited crushes and all, yada, yada, yada, my Dad said he’s a nice guy and making some friends wouldn’t do me any harm,” Stiles rambles, nibbling on his lower lip.

Derek has to tear his eyes away from his mouth. He shakes his head as if it will help clear it of thoughts about his dick and Stiles’ mouth. It doesn’t work.

“Who is he?” Derek grunts instead, and if Stiles says it’s Matt, Derek knows he’s going to end up in jail himself tonight.

For murder. Bloody, gruesome, totally satisfying, completely worth it murder.

“Look, it’s not a thing, although I don’t know why I’m explaining myself... He’s asked me a few times since I got here and I’m sure he just wants to widen his social circle,” Stiles continues running his hand through his hair nervously.

“Stiles. Who?” Derek isn’t proud that he allows a little alpha to creep into his voice.

He’s sure he imagines it when Stiles whimpers and tilts his neck, just a tiny bit.

“Err, Parrish? Jordan Parrish? He’s a...” Stiles begins.

“Beat cop... Works first floor.” Derek knows who he is.

Derek also knows that Parrish is objectively good looking. Not to him of course, because he’s not Stiles.

He also knows Parrish is into guys because he tries to flirt with Derek every time he ends up on that floor.

Derek doesn’t dislike him, Jordan is nice and he smells ok. For some reason, that makes Derek even more angry.

“It’s definitely a date.” Derek nods and looks down at his desk, avoiding Stiles’ eyes so he can’t see how badly this is affecting him.

He’s furious, mostly with himself for being so naive as to think someone wouldn’t snatch Stiles right from under him.

He picks up his pen and tries to to make it look like he doesn’t feel like Stiles just ripped his heart out of his chest in the middle of the bullpen.

“Well... ok... it’s not... but do I look ok though, I have got some time to change?” Stiles persists, not letting it go.

Derek huffs, slams his pen down and gets to his feet. He wants to head butt his desk in half.

He knows he’s not being fair to Stiles. He knows that Stiles thinks Derek doesn’t want him but it’s painful how untrue that is.

Against Derek’s better judgement he steps into Stiles’ space and take an indulgent deep breath in.

Stiles swallows and licks his lips. Derek’s so close he can see every eyelash on his beautiful face.

The moment’s charged and it feels like now or never.

Stiles doesn’t move, but cocks his eyebrow challengingly, clutching his file to his chest. Derek knows he’s not going to make the first move because of last time.

Just as Derek decides to hell with it, he’s going to kiss him and see what happens, the elevator pings again and Captain Stillinski steps out.

It breaks the moment and Stiles takes a step back, disappointment written all over his face.

He walks past John who holds the elevator for him.

“Hey Daddio. Got that file ready to send over to records... I’ll just be on my merry way,” Stiles says and steps into the elevator.

“You’ve decided to go out after all then?” Derek overhears John say cryptically to him.

“Yeah. Can’t hurt, we’ll probably just shoot some pool and I’ll be back around midnight,” Stiles nods and presses the down button.

“Just off to shoot pool? Not dressed like that you’re not,” The Captain tells him with a smirk.

Stiles rolls his eyes at his Dad and then he looks straight at Derek.

The doors begin to close and Derek tries to get the courage to shout stop, to do anything to keep him from going, but Derek’s frozen.

Just before the doors slam shut, he hears Stiles whisper angrily, eyes burning into his.

“If this is because you’re afraid to hurt me because you’re a werewolf Hale, that’s a chicken shit excuse, for the record,” and then Derek’s left in stunned silence as the doors snick shut.

Derek sits down in his chair before he falls down, absolutely stunned and the Captain approaches his desk.

“So... Derek...” John says, taking the seat opposite him.

Derek doesn’t trust himself to speak just yet.

“How’s it going with Stiles?” The Captain continues.

Derek just shakes his head back and forth, eyes wide, chewing his lip furiously.

“That good hmm Son? Well... can I offer you a little sound advice?” John continues.

Derek nods, not knowing what else to do.

“That ‘file’ that Stiles just carried out of here that he had to mail so urgently?” John says.

“Yeah?” Derek grunts, senses coming back to him.

“Well I’m not suggesting he made an excuse to come here to see you but he was a shoving a stack of five guys menus into an envelope as he passed me,” The Captain tells him nonchalantly.

“Sir?” Derek says and he knows he sounds hopeful.

“I’m worried that you’re my best detective and you still can’t work out something that’s right in front of you,” John continues.

“I... there’s thing’s that you can’t know about me Sir. I’m no good for him. It’s not that easy,” Derek puts his head in his hands.

“Is this about you being a Werewolf?” John asks casually, heartbeat steady.

“What? Oh my god, does the whole precinct know?” Derek growls.

“Derek, he knows you’re a Werewolf. I know you’re a werewolf. I’ve known since you started here. Stiles’ Mom was a Werewolf too see. Stiles and I were in a pack back in Sunrise County. That’s how he figured it out, he knows what to look out for. I didn’t tell him... I was going to leave that up to you. He told me and I have to quote it because I didn’t understand half of it and I’m traumatised by the other half, that “you kissed him like he was Pam Beesley and you were Jim Halpert and then you grew fangs, growled and blew him off, in the non-fun way”. He knows about Erica too,” The Captain explains, as if this is the most normal conversation in the world.

“Stiles’ Mom was a Werewolf, sir?” Derek asks quietly, not missing the past tense and tries to ignore the reminder that he’d blown it once already with Stiles.

“Hunters... Stiles was ten. I was the Sheriff and it just didn’t feel like enough without her. I moved away a few years later, a fresh start. I couldn’t be happy there without her and I took Stiles with me. He missed the rest of the pack but they keep in touch. He’s strong that kid. He can handle himself you know. If that’s what’s holding you back Derek, I’m just saying. You won’t be bringing him any trouble he won’t find himself,” John continues.

Derek has this sinking feeling that he’s made a colossal mistake and now Stiles, the first person he’s felt anything remotely romantic for since he was sixteen years of age is on a date. With someone else. Looking like sex on a stick.

Derek growls and gets to his feet.

“Attaboy. I’m here to take over your late shift by the way. Jordan’s taking him to Mister Paradise for cocktails. I got Danny from IT to hack his internet search history, just in case,” John says, stealing Derek’s cup of coffee.

Derek thanks heavens for Danny as he rushes to the doorway to take the stairs, knowing he’s not going to have the patience to wait for the elevator.

His phone rings from inside his car as he hits the garage level. He realises he must have left it in there earlier. 

He almost doesn’t answer it in time but he gets a chill that runs from his toes to his neck and it’s not a good feeling.

He realises he’s got five missed calls and he suddenly can’t catch his breath as he hits accept call.

“Erica?” He demands into the phone, shoving his keys into the ignition.

“No it’s Boyd. Derek, she’s in so much pain. I don’t... I don’t know what to do...” Boyd’s usually calm voice sounds as erratic as Derek feels.

He runs three red lights by the time he arrives at the hospital but it still takes him an agonising hour to get across the city in the Saturday night traffic.

————————

When Derek finally arrives, he’s frantic. He sprints through the hospital corridors and he reads a sign indicating which floor to go to.

He takes the stairs a full stairwell at a time and he hopes no-one’s coming down as he goes up, because if so they’re in for a furry kind of shock.

He runs through the maternity corridor and he doesn’t need to ask where to go because Erica’s scent is everywhere, fear, pain, blood and exhaustion, all narrowing down to one little room at the end of the hallway.

Derek takes a deep breath and stops before he goes in, calming himself and he opens the door.

Erica’s sitting up in bed eating a pudding cup, Boyd sitting in a chair next to her stroking her hand. She beams at Derek when she see’s he’s arrived.

And standing there, next to the bed, swaying from side to side with a little blue bundle of blankets wrapped in his arms, still dressed in his date clothes, is Stiles.

Derek nearly drops to his knees in relief, both at seeing Stiles and the fact that Erica’s ok, Pup safe and sound.

Derek whines and he presses his lips to Erica’s forehead.

“Come meet your newest pack members,” Erica tells him, beaming proudly and gesturing at Stiles and the baby.

Derek looks to Boyd for some assistance, eyes wide.

“Derek, man, don’t get me involved, apparently he’s known from the beginning. Erica flashed her eyes at him when he took her coffee mug. She thought you were going to be mad at her but then you gave yourself away too,” Boyd tells him.

Derek doesn’t think he’ll ever be mad at Erica ever again.

Derek approaches them tentatively, not wanting to spook the baby, or Stiles for that matter, but when Derek sidles in next to him to peer down into the blankets, Stiles just grins at him.

“Dude, he’s so freaking cute,” Stiles whispers to the baby, alternating glances at Derek and the bundle in his arms, “aren’t you? You’re so freaking cute.” 

Derek holds his arms out and Stiles carefully transfers the baby to Derek, the bundle wriggling a little in protest at being transferred.

“Hey Pup. I’m Derek,” Derek tells the baby when it blinks wrinkly eyes open at him.

The baby promptly bursts into tears until Derek lets his shift come over him and it stops crying abruptly.

Derek sees the baby’s eyes glow gold, just a faint shimmer and he knows the baby is a wolf.

He grins proudly up at Stiles and he’s split open by the look on Stiles’ face.

Stiles looks like he’s either about to cry or jump him, possibly both but they both know it’s going to have to wait.

“Right Der, go and fetch the nurse with the curly hair, I think her name was Melissa. She seems the most competent. I need to discharge myself before they come back and see my magic vajoo joo has healed up all on its own,” Erica ruins the moment.

Derek looks at her in abject horror, but Stiles high fives her.

“Here’s to self healing vajoo joos,” Stiles whoops.

“Here here,” Boyd echoes exhaustedly.

Derek wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

—————————

They drop Erica and Boyd back in Erica’s car because Boyd had driven them to the hospital. They also have a car seat ready fitted.

Stiles rides up front with Derek and they keep stealing shy glances at each other.

When they’ve settled Erica, Boyd and the baby in their apartment, Derek offers to walk Stiles home again.

They make it the entire way this time before either of them say anything and to Stiles’ surprise it’s Derek who breaks the silence.

“How did you get to the hospital so fast?” He asks Stiles.

“Erica called me to see if I was with you,” Stiles shrugs. 

“Right, but you weren’t...” Derek points out the obvious.

“No. I’d literally just got into Jordan’s car actually,” Stiles shrugs.

Derek growls at the mention of his name and a small tug of a smile pulls at Stiles’ lips.

“I called Dad and he said you’d already left so I thought I may as well see if they needed me down the hospital,” Stiles tells him, “I only got there about five minutes before you. We were already on the freeway see.” 

“Thank you. For bailing on your date. For us,” Derek tells him quietly.

“Dude, goes without saying. And it wasn’t a date,” Stiles tells Derek.

“You sure about that?” Derek asks him.

“Well... Jordan did say I owed him dinner as he dropped me off...” Stiles says thoughtfully and Derek backs up him up into the wall of his building.

“No. No dinner. No more Parrish.” Derek breathes Stiles in, nose brushing lightly against the exposed skin on his neck. His neck is chilly.

“Nnnnngh,” Stiles says.

Derek places a soft kiss against his collarbone and presses in even closer to him, so that there isn’t any room between them. He nudges Stiles’ knee to the side and he stands between his legs and rubs his face back and forth on his cheek, scenting him.

“Ok,” Stiles pulls at his hair earning him a snarl, “we need to have a conversation because I’m getting really mixed signals from you and I really like you, like unhealthy amounts and I think you like me and if we keep going like this and it’s just a pack thing for you...” Stiles groans.

Derek seals his mouth to his and kisses him slow and deep, tongue licking into his mouth. When he pulls back, he feels about as wrecked as Stiles looks.

He puts his hands either side of Stiles’ head boxing him in and stares him straight in the eyes.

“It’s not a pack thing. I want you so fucking badly. When you walked into the precinct earlier tonight, I saw you and I was instantly hard. God, you’ve no idea. I wanted you the second I laid eyes on you, the second I smelt you and it terrified me because I don’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t want to get hurt. The things I want to do to you, you wouldn’t believe. I was so scared. I still am. Because of how you are with Erica, with Boyd. Because of how you were with the Pup. I don’t just want to fuck you Stiles, I want to keep you and it fucking scares the shit out of me.” Derek decides to go for broke.

His answer is Stiles climbing him like a tree, right there in the street, moaning shamelessly into his mouth as they roll together.

Derek puts him down before he has to arrest himself for public indecency.

“Upstairs,” Derek demands.

“My Dad...” Stiles says into Derek’s mouth.

“Is covering my night shift,” Derek informs him.

Stiles sprints up the stairs to the brownstone, not even waiting for him and he trips on the last step, sprawling, catching himself before he hits the ground.

He takes a bow as if it’s part of his act and he beckons Derek with a finger. It shouldn’t be sexy, but any action with Stiles’ hands involved has Derek sold.

Derek laughs at him as he jogs up the steps to meet him, he’s just so perfectly imperfect. 

As soon as they’re through the door, Derek spins them around and pushes Stiles up against it.

If he thought the way that Stiles kissed him outside was risky, inside he’s positively obscene.

He opens his mouth and fucks his tongue into Derek’s, biting his lip as he goes. He pulls on Derek’s hair and moans his enthusiasm loudly and when he begs, it has Derek fumbling frantically for his belt buckle.

Derek gets his belt undone, shoves his boxers under his balls and proceeds to work on Stiles tight trousers, the noise of his zipper loud in the dark hallway. Stiles’ lips never leave his and Derek feels him unbuttoning his own shirt.

Stiles wraps a hand around Derek’s heavy uncut dick.

“Fuck, you’re thick. I thought about what your dick would be like, I jerked off thinking about it inside me,” Stiles whines into his mouth,

Derek works a frantic hand into the front of Stiles’ pants, the other fumbling behind him, dragging his trousers down over his backside.

Stiles pulls away from his mouth to yank Derek’s T-shirt up under his arms.

“Off, off,” He chants and Derek laughs, resting his head against his shoulder.

He lets Stiles pull his T shirt over his head and he yanks Stiles’ shirt open so that when they come back together, it’s blissfully warm skin against skin.

Derek has no idea what he’s doing, it’s all instinct and pure want when he drops to his knees in front of Stiles. He stares at his boxer clad dick and presses his face into him, inhaling.

“Can I... is it ok if I...” Derek can’t get out what he wants, voice wrecked. He kind of wants everything.

“I’m going to go ahead and give you blanket permission to do whatever to me, literally whenever you like,” Stiles whines, threading his hand gently into Derek’s hair.

“I.. I’ve never... not with a guy,” Derek tells him, closing his eyes and rubbing his face back and forth in Stiles’ crotch, “but god I want to.”

“Oh holy fuck, you’re going to ruin me, I know you are. Get up here,” Stiles tugs at his shoulders until Derek’s upright again. Stiles straightens them both up, picking up Derek’s t-shirt despite Derek’s protesting growl. Stiles takes his hand.

Derek follows him upstairs, pinning him against every wall and kissing him some more for good measure. Stiles kicks open the door to his bedroom and Derek’s hit with his scent in here, so intense, so, so good.

Derek hums appreciatively, a sense of ease coming over him. Stiles takes off his shirt, lays down on the bed and his eyes are burning holes into Derek as he strips down to his boxers, his tie still remaining, a stark black line leading down his torso. 

Derek just stands and watches. He’s so damn beautiful.

Derek’s hands twitch at his sides, unsure where to start.

“Do you... do you want me to tell you what to do?” Stiles says breathlessly because he is nothing if not perceptive.

Derek’s dick twitches at his words and he palms himself, groaning, tilting his head right back and exposing the long line of his neck, pulse thumping wildly; to anyone with half a clue about Werewolf behaviour, it’s a blatant submission.

“I’m going to take that as a fuck yes...” Stiles’ voice is gravelly when he speaks again, “take your jeans off and come here.”

Derek strips quickly and crawls up Stiles’ body until they’re kissing again and it soon becomes nowhere near enough.

Derek’s rocking into Stiles’ body and when he feels their dicks brush together, through their boxers, Derek lets out a growl.

“Let me up,” Stiles says, pushing on his shoulders.

Derek moves back, mourning the loss of skin on skin contact.

Stiles pushes him back down into the pillows and Derek thinks they’re going to resume kissing until Stiles sits back on his heels.

“Now roll onto your stomach,” Stiles voice is firm but it gives a wobble at the end, the only sign that this is affecting him half as much as it’s affecting Derek.

Derek does as he’s told and Stiles strokes him lightly, fingers ghosting over the skin on his back. He lingers over his families tattoo, somehow knowing it’s a story for another time, before moving on, down lower. Derek marvels at how much he trusts him.

Derek arches his back as Stiles reaches his waistline, fingers stroking the skin there, not moving lower.

Derek feels like he’s on fire.

“Stiles please... “ Derek begs shamelessly.

It seems Derek’s permission was what Stiles had been waiting for. Stiles yanks Derek’s boxers under the globes of his ass, Derek’s dick still trapped and pushed into the sheets. It exposes him bare.

Stiles lets out a soft moan and he palms one of Derek’s cheeks in each hand. Derek whimpers, grinding into Stiles’ mattress, shameless in his sudden overwhelming need.

“Do it,” Derek growls.

Stiles parts him, fingers digging in and Derek’s seen a lot of porn but nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of Stiles’ clever tongue sweeping warm and wet across his tight hole.

Stiles wastes no time, licking at him and when Derek shreds his sheets with his claws, it only seems to egg Stiles on.

Stiles eats him like he’s his last meal, devouring him and sucking at him until Derek’s writhing from it.

Derek feels Stiles’ spit dribble down over his balls and he nearly comes, probably would have if his dick wasn’t trapped.

Derek pushes back into Stiles’ face, demanding more and Stiles works a finger in alongside his tongue and Derek lets out a guttural moan, clenching his hole on Stiles’ hand.

Stiles drags him up to his knees and he nudges one of Derek’s knees wider to give him the access he wants and he licks back into Derek.

When Stiles gets a second spit slick finger in him and finger fucks him to the rhythm of his tongue pushing in and out of him, Derek feels his orgasm build from his toes. It’s the best kind of slow torture he’s ever experienced and when Stiles grips his cock through his boxers, Derek comes hard, knees giving way.

Stiles plasters himself to his back, kissing the back of Derek’s neck until Derek’s brain comes back online.

“Let me suck your dick,” Derek demands when he realises Stiles hasn’t come yet, sexual awakening well in progress and giving him confidence.

“Oh, wow, fuck yes, ok,” Stiles rolls them over so he’s straddling Derek’s waist.

Derek pushes him upwards until he’s straddling Derek’s face and Stiles is looking down at him, pupils blown.

Derek tugs Stiles’ boxers down and gets frustrated when he realises Stiles will have to get back up in order for him to remove them.

Derek lets his claws elongate and he slices them neatly so they fall off Stiles’ hips.

“Well that’s the second hottest thing that’s every happened to me. The first was you coming with my tongue in your ass, for the record. Wait... Like this? Holy shit, are you sure?” Stiles holds onto his headboard when he realises how Derek’s manoeuvring him.

Derek nods; he’s never been so sure of anything in his life. 

He can’t take his eyes off Stiles’ dick. It’s long and cut and Derek wants it in his mouth, like yesterday. Derek licks his lips greedily, opens his mouth, runs his hands down Stiles ass stroking the bare skin and just waits patiently.

“It’s gonna be like that huh?” Stiles complains as if he’s being tortured but he grabs his leaking cock.

He rubs it across Derek’s lower lip and Derek licks the tip.

Stiles doesn’t take his eyes off his as he inches into Derek’s mouth.

Derek moans gutturally when he feels him hit the back of his throat and he forces himself to swallow around the head.

Turns out it’s a huge mistake because Stiles grunts and thrusts deeper and Derek’s eyes water with the effort to not gag.

“Jesus, sorry, sorry, just give me a second,” Stiles pants and Derek frowns at him and pulls his head back so Stiles slips out of his mouth.

“I don’t think I was clear earlier Stiles... I’ve never done this before but I want to with you. I want all the things. I’m all in. Now fuck my mouth and come down my throat,” Derek sucks him down as deep as he can.

Stiles looks to the sky as if for some divine assistance and he proceeds to fuck in and out of Derek’s mouth, Derek’s hands urging him on, digging his fingers into his ass.

When Stiles cups his face with one of his hands and bites his own lip, he’s just so perfect Derek can’t take it.

Derek gets a hand down his own boxers, his dick already hard again. It takes just three strokes of his thick cock, already soaked and slick with his own come, before he’s coming on a moan, throat working around Stiles’ cock.

He’s not as careful with his teeth and it seems to be what sends Stiles over the edge.

Derek feels Stiles’ dick throb in his mouth and hot come hits the back of his throat.

Derek sucks hard around him, wanting to taste every drop of him and Stiles drags his dick in and out of his mouth until he’s spent.

He flops next to Derek breathing hard, like he’s run a marathon. Derek rolls onto his side propping his head on his hand.

“I really, really enjoyed that,” He says drowsily to Stiles.

“Im broken. You broke me,” Stiles groans.

Derek pins him with his body, nuzzling into his neck until Stiles laughs and tugs his hair gently.

Derek pulls back and just looks at him, grinning.

He’s not sure if he’s ever been this happy.

“You’re amazing. So good for me,” he tells Stiles, noses touching.

“Pot, kettle,” Stiles says sleepily, kissing Derek sloppily. 

Orgasms make Stiles dopey and affectionate. Good to know, Derek thinks.

“I’ve got some issues Stiles. I don’t want you to think this is going to be easy but if you let me, I’ll try. I will try. If it means having you...” Derek trails off and he rests his head on Stiles’ chest.

Stiles runs his fingers through Derek’s hair until he’s nearly asleep, body thrumming with a contented humming.

“I’m going to date you so hard Hale. I’m going to make you fall head over heels for me. You won’t know what hit you,” Stiles whispers earnestly, grinning at him and kissing the top of his head.

Derek smiles shyly and nuzzles his face against Stiles’ skin to hide how happy he is.

Derek can’t exactly tell him he’s already totally hooked on him.

———————

Six months later...

———————

“Stiles. Please. shut. the fuck. up,” Derek pants desperately, dick buried to the hilt in Stiles’ ass.

“Nnngh, oh god, well you dragged me into my Dad’s office you Neanderthal, for hot work sex, what am I supposed to do?” Stiles protests but bends more fully over the desk, trying to spread his trapped legs to allow Derek a deeper angle.

“I told you... not to... suck on...the pens,” Derek argues.

“It’s because I’m constantly thinking about sucking your dick,” Stiles complains, like that’s a valid argument.

Derek’s thrusts turn hard and fast, fingers biting into Stiles’ hips, torn between wanting to drag it out so he can fuck Stiles for longer and being terrified for his life that the Captain’s going to come back from lunch and catch them.

The door’s locked, but they’re not going to be able to explain why they’re in there. Together. 

When Stiles cries out loudly, Derek yanks him upright and puts a large hand over his mouth and his other wraps lightly round Stiles’ throat.

He slows the roll of his hips, Stiles going completely boneless leaning back into him and he lets Derek support their weight. Derek’s not got much movement because his jeans are trapping his ankles but it doesn’t matter because Stiles’ tight hole is gripping his dick like a vice on every thrust.

Derek grunts and he knows he’s getting close.

Derek nips lightly at his neck and Stiles rewards him with a drawn out moan, reaching for his own dick which is slapping against his stomach.

Derek grabs both of his hands and lets go of his mouth.

“Der, fuck. I love you. I do. Please come. Fill me up,” Stiles begs.

Derek grunts and picks up his pace, dick dragging in and out of him until Stiles is crying out again.

“Show them Der. Show them I’m yours,” Stiles picked up on Derek’s need to mark him really early on and he shamelessly uses that knowledge to get Derek to lose control when they have sex, knowing exactly what buttons to push.

Derek snarls and he lets his eyes go red and he sets a punishing pace, pushing Stiles harder than they’ve gone before.

He takes Stiles’ head gently in his hand and he forces him back down onto the desk, holding him in place while he fucks him deep, pressing Stiles’ body down with his own. 

He sniffs, making sure Stiles is ok with this and he’s pleased that Stiles smells like pure want.

He turns his neck and looks up at Derek with wide innocent eyes. Correction, misleadingly, wide innocent eyes. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.

“Fuck, Derek, you feel so good. You know Jordan came up to wait for my Dad to come back don’t you? Something about a promotion. He’s just outside, he can probably hear us,” Stiles challenges, voice destroyed.

Derek’s growl is dangerous and he leans down and bites Stiles hard on the neck, not breaking skin but hard enough that he yelps in pain.

The scent of come fills Derek’s nostrils and it’s the thought that Stiles gets off on him claiming him, that ends it for Derek.

Stiles’ hole clamps down on Derek’s dick as he comes, completely untouched, dick pressed into the desk.

Derek pulls out and grips his dick, coming right on Stiles’ fucked out hole and he uses his dick to push his come inside him, once, twice, until he goes soft.

Derek pulls him up and spins him, kissing him sweetly.

“You’re an actual menace,” Derek tells him, yanking his own jeans up.

Stiles tries to pull his trousers up, trips and laughs as Derek steadies him.

“Yeah but you love me though,” Stiles says and he should look ridiculous trying to tuck his dick into his pants, falling all over himself.

“You’ve got no idea how much,” Derek smiles softly at him.

The beaming smile Stiles gives him in return means he can’t resist dragging him in for a lingering kiss, soft, lazy and Derek doesn’t think he will ever get bored of doing this with him.

A sudden abrupt knocking makes Stiles jump and he bangs his knee hard on a chair. Derek stares at the door in shock, dragging in a breath; he’d been so wrapped up in Stiles, how could he not have heard, how could he not have scented her.

He knew she was coming in today. Stiles and his goddamned habit of putting anything and everything in his mouth. 

Derek had thrown the pen he’d been fellating in the bin in a temper and he’d dragged him into the Captain’s office, with barely a thought to the consequences.

“Hey boys, put your dicks away,” Erica’s wicked voice comes through the door, loud and clear, “Momma’s back!”

———————-

**Author's Note:**

> Just borrowing the teen wolf characters, please don’t post this anywhere else. Any mistakes are mine, you know I love to make shiz up.
> 
> For Erica and Boyd, because they deserved to have happiness!
> 
> Thank you for reading, give me a shout if I’ve missed any tags.


End file.
